White Blood ➵ LotR/Lord of the Rings

v.

Chapter Five
Rivendell/Hollin

Settling into Edoras had been more difficult than Ninimben expected.

She was an enigma in Edoras. The people there hadn't even seen an Elf before, and suddenly one was living among them and fighting in their battles. Ninimben tried to brush the curious stares off, and even interacted with the locals to try and make them feel more at ease around her, but progress was slow. She spent a lot of time in the Golden Hall as a result, keeping out of invasive stares.

Even then, Eomer was the only one comfortable around her. The King was distant, and Ninimben kept out of sight of Grima Wormtongue where she could. Theodred tried to be welcoming, but he was awkward with his interactions, not quite sure how to act around her. She hadn't seen much of Eowyn at all.

And today, Ninimben thought she'd found the reason why.

She'd been searching for a private place to practice her swordplay when she found Eowyn in a private room in the Golden Hall, going through several sword movements on her own. Ninimben stopped in the doorway and watched as Eowyn practiced her forms, moving through each without so much as a pause or dropping her form. She didn't falter even when she increased her pace, sword flashing deadly through the air.

Eowyn maintained this for several minutes before she finished with a sharp movement, freezing suddenly. She panted,

"You're quite skilled," Ninimben commented, once she was sure Eowyn had recovered.

Eowyn jumped and spun around, sword raised. She breathed out when she spotted Ninimben in the door, only for her cheeks to turn red for a reason not related to her practice.

"Ninimben," she gasped, flustered. She tensed, as though unsure how to respond.

Ninimben smiled gently and raised her hands. "Please. No formalities. We are comrades, after all."

Eowyn nodded slowly. "I'd rather be comrades than enemies," she said shortly. She sheathed her sword in a swift movement.

Ninimben tilted her head to the side. She knew of the Shieldmaidens of Rohan, yet there was something more here. Eowyn's skill was more refined and controlled than she had been anticipating.

"How long have you been training for?"

"Years. Almost as long as my brother."

"It shows. You're as good as he is."

Eowyn blinked before her lips spread into a smile. It was warm, joyful – it was impossible not to return.

It was impossible to not feel an inkling of fondness for Eowyn, despite having only just met.

Ninimben hummed to herself. She'd intended to practice on her own – but wasn't it always more fun with a partner?

A voice in the back of her head warned her it was a bad idea, that she shouldn't get attached to any more mortals – look what happened last time! It screamed at her. But Ninimben had already pulled out her swords before she could consider its argument and grinned at Eowyn. "Care to have a match? I need to practice before I get complacent and my skills rusty."

Eowyn's eyes widened, and her irises sparkled. Someone may just have offered her the world on a silver platter.

"Of course," she said at once, reproducing her sword. "It would be my pleasure."

And that began the tradition between them – and one of the strongest friendship Ninimben had ever had.

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